And Now For Something Different
by BipolarMolar
Summary: Multi-chapter fic- multiple pairings. Seriously, I'll write any pairing, no matter how strange. Already uploaded- Brendan/Dodger, Brendan/Doug, Kevin/Walker, Brendan/Kevin, Walker/Shawnee. Slash and het.
1. Last Call- Brendan VS Dodger

**Title: And Now For Something Different**

**Chapter Title: Last Call**

**Disclaimer; I have no legal claim on Oaks.**

Brendan sighed as he walked back into the bar, eyeing the mess of bottles and glasses, puddles of spilt beer on the floor. Slipping out of Chez Chez to answer a phone call, Brendan had instructed Ashleigh Kane and Joel Dexter to begin cleaning, when they were near to closing. The call had run on longer than intended and Brendan pocketed his mobile phone ruefully, looking around the empty room with a frown. Where were his employees?

Ash raced into the room at that moment, and saw Brendan immediately.

"Good crowd?" Brendan asked distractedly, watching Ash fumble for her mobile, not even looking at him.

"Uh, normal Thursday crowd…"

"Where's Joel?"

"I don't know, he left me to deal with all this, listen, I gotta go-"

"No you don't," Brendan snapped, catching hold of her slim wrist as she tried to walk right past him, her bag hanging off her arm. "With Joel M.I.A, you're cleaning up."

Ash bit her lip and shook her head. "Boss, I'm sorry but Callum rang-"

"Your brother?"

"Mum's passed out, the ambulance came, I don't know, I've gotta go, I'll clean up in the morning-"

Brendan nodded begrudgingly and Ash sagged in relief. "Go, Ashleigh. All the mess will be here for you in the morning. Go see your mammy."

"Thanks, Brendan, give Joel a kick from me when you see him for leaving me in the lurch. I better go- oh, before I forget, we got a straggler- he's drunk and passed out- or sleeping- over there, so you're gonna have to-"

"Alright, alright, go, Ashleigh, _now_ or I'll take this time out your break tomorrow."

Ash left with her phone pressed to her ear.

Brendan rolled his sleeves up his forearms, making his way to the corner of the room, where he had just noticed the still figure Ash had mentioned. He planned to wake this man up, not wanting to haul him out, give him the bum's rush. Brendan couldn't very well let him kip here- the man could steal something.

When Brendan got nearer, he realised it was Dodger Savage, Dirk Savage's son. Chatty, charming jack-the-lad Dodger Savage. Brendan had never really had time for him, but he had no issues with him. He reached forward and roughly shook Dodger (and after all, what sort of name is _Dodger?_), deciding that he'd throw a bucket of cold water over him if the man didn't stir. The comedy appeal would be worth it, no matter how annoyed Dodger got.

But Dodger did wake from Brendan's attempts to rouse him; he groaned and groggily raised his head from his crossed arms, blinking blearily up at Brendan.

"What time is it?"

"Late. Get up."

Dodger swallowed and coughed and Brendan took a hasty step back, wondering if the man was going to vomit. Ash wouldn't be happy about having to clear that up but _Brendan_ sure as hell wasn't going to do it.

"Eugh…my 'ead…" He slumped forward, eyes closing.

Brendan rolled his eyes, yanking Dodger's collar to make him raise his head again. "No, don't do that here. Go home- you do have a home, don't you? Go…somewhere. I'll call you a cab." He tried to turn away but Dodger grabbed his hand, tugging it in a drunkenly playful way.

"Brett…"

"Brendan."

"S-sorry, _hic,_ Brendan. You ever been in love, Brendan?"

The bartender scowled. He wasn't going to share his love life with a random customer. "No."

"I fought I was in love. Maybe. I 'ad a date tonight, my fifth date wiv this gorgeous girl, went to see 'er earlier tonight actually…"

"And?" In spite of himself, Brendan was curious.

"And 'er boyfriend showed up."

"Ah."

"Yeah. But tha's the fing, innit? Girls. Some of 'em, yeah, most of 'em are all that, they're great. A lot of my mates settled down and they love it. But me? I end up wiv…wiv the liars and tarts and scrubbers. That girl, she- she and me could've been good…but she- she don't know what she's missing-"

"Yeah yeah, you're a stone cold fox." Brendan sighed, grasping Dodger by the arm to help him stagger into a standing position. Dodger's blue short was short-sleeved, and Brendan couldn't help but appreciate the toned arm, muscles flexing under his fingers as Dodger leaned heavily against him. Brendan was a hot-blooded male after all.

"Ta," Dodger squinted at Brendan, a small smile appearing on his face. That Hollywood grin, although sheepish and dopey, was pleasing on his chiselled features, and Brendan found himself smiling back. "You're not too bad yourself, Brendan." And Dodger leaned forward, planting a wet, sloppy kiss on Brendan's mouth.

Brendan broke the contact, their damp lips unsticking with a sound like plunger unblocking a drain. He stared at Dodger for a whole minute, but Dodger didn't do anything except look back at him with half-lidded, sleepy eyes.

"Dodger…you like women?"

"Yeah, course, ladies' man- that's me!"

"So why…?"

Dodger lurched forward and Brendan automatically grabbed his waist, trying to prevent him from falling, but Dodger had other things on his mind than meeting the floor. He seized Brendan's waist, his fingers tugging at the belt, to bring Brendan closer. When Brendan fell forward, led by his belt, the movement made him push Dodger fast against the bar, their bodies crushed together.

"Fought maybe I'd try somefing _different_,"

"You can't be serious."

"Fuck me, Brendan. Show me what it's like…_wiv a guy._" He whispered the last words, his hot lips brushing Brendan's ear and the smell of beer on his breath. Brendan's mouth ran dry and he inhaled sharply.

"I'm not taking advantage of you, Dodger. I don't want your family on my back for popping your _gay _cherry."

"It's not takin' advantage if I want it."

"Dodger…"

"C'mon, Brendan…you fuck boys, so why not fuck a man? And I've 'ad so many girls you _know _I just be good."

It was tempting, definitely tempting. If Dodger did, or said one more thing, Brendan wasn't going to be held responsible for his actions, the wrath of Dirk Savage or not.

"Come on," Dodger whispered, pushing against Brendan so he could feel the hard muscle of his six-pack under his thin cotton t-shirt, and the hard bulge in his jeans. Brendan could feel himself getting hard, and Dodger drunkenly rutting against him was doing nothing to stop that.

"Oh, shit, Dodger," he groaned, pressing back even though he knew it would do nothing to clear his head. He cupped Dodger's firm, denim-clad arse and ground his groin against Dodger's, moaning aloud at the warmth sparking up his crotch.

Without another word, Brendan pulled Dodger along, until he could shove him hard at the wall, smirking a little at the surprised gasp Dodger gave. Brendan quickly fetched a small tub of Vaseline and a couple of condoms from his office , pleased to see Dodger exactly where he'd left him.

Brendan's mouth fell open when he saw Dodger with his jeans pooled around his ankles, his cock hard and flushed between his hands, furiously jacking himself off. Brendan placed the condoms and lube on the bar, wagging his finger sardonically at Dodger and saying "Naughty, naughty," before taking Dodger's hands off his prick. Dodger grumbled and muttered something incoherent, but Brendan didn't care about the younger man's discomfort because he'd just freed his own erection and the feeling of his own hands on it was a relief. He unwrapped the condom, putting it on his aching cock lest he forgot to do it when he was…caught up with Dodger.

With his protection taken care of, Brendan was free to touch Dodger, and he wasted no time, falling to his knees so that he could hoist Dodger's t-shirt up and let his hands roam over the smooth, tanned flesh. Brendan admired Dodger for this and only this, the attention he paid to making his own body look better. Brendan's hands fit perfectly over the moulded sculpture of the firm pectorals and abdomen. He even leant closer and licked Dodger's chest, just dragged his tongue along, letting the wet appendage dip along the curves of the six-pack, lapping at the slightly sweating skin. Dodger's chest was shaved, so Brendan's tongue was able to slide flatly on the flesh, and he didn't even have to pull Dodger's jeans and pants down, the man had done it when Brendan was in the office.

Dodger straightened up, his crotch now at mouth level. Dodger thrust his hips weakly, the tip of his cock brushing Brendan's lips, and Brendan took the hint. Without taking his eyes off the long, hard member, he managed to grab the other condom from the bar, straining to reach up to the bar from his position on the floor. At some point, he accidentally knelt in one of the puddles of spilt alcohol and he glowered at the coldness seeping into the knee of his trousers, but the whimper Dodger gave when Brendan eased the condom on him was delicious and Brendan's annoyance at the stain on his trousers was soon forgotten.

He took Dodger into his mouth with no warning, sucking hard and without teasing or patience. Dodger squirmed, trying to fuck Brendan's mouth but it took Brendan no effort to hold Dodger's hips still, sucking painfully hard, with his tongue flat against Dodger's cock, giving no other stimulation at all. He pulled off with a wet popping noise that sounded too loud in the deserted bar, and got to his feet, out of breath.

Dodger met Brendan's eyes fleetingly, but his gaze skittered away nervously. Brendan has no patience to be reassuring him, so he used Dodger's shoulders to guide him around to facing the wall. The lubricant was cool and smooth on Brendan's fingers, and he greased the digits up, coating them thickly in the stuff before nudging Dodger's legs apart with his foot. Dodger tensed, but Brendan bit the back of his neck in a quick, reproachful nip, and Dodger braced his hands on the wall, ready for Brendan's touch.

He stuck a finger roughly into Dodger, ignoring the resulting yelp and the muscle clenching around his finger. He stabbed it in and out a few times and added another, working the fingers in and out, using his free hand to either part Dodger reassuringly on the shoulder or restrain him, depending on each reaction. At one particular prod, Dodger moaned, a deep, masculine groan that set a molten stream of arousal, running like liquid fire through Brendan's body. He couldn't postpone it any longer and didn't want to- he wanted to fuck Dodger into the wall, hard and deep,_ now._

He pushed his own trousers further down his legs, smearing the stickiness on his fingers onto the material, and gripped Dodger's hips to steady him. Brendan took a breath and then pushed in, his cock pushing past the stretched but still fucking tight hole, until he was buried in hot skin.

"Ah, God, Dodger…so tight…"

"Mmm, Brendan, m-move…"

He compromised, using his hold on Dodger's hips to push Dodger's arse of his cock and then force him back onto it, impaling the man. This encouraged deep thrusts and Brendan began panting, his moans torn from him in a desperate torrent of curses, breaths and gasps. One of Dodger's sweaty hands slid down the wall and ended at his groin; he wanked while Brendan pounded into him. Brendan was close, he knew it, and be gave one last deep, hard thrust before he lost himself, shouting out Dodger's name, spilling his load into the condom, into Dodger. Dodger's hand had sped up from its position on his cock so he was close to, Brendan reached around and gave a couple of pulls to Dodger's cock and before he knew it, Dodger was fucking himself urgently on Brendan's softening dick, swearing as he succumbed to his own climax.

Brendan was the first to move when both men had calmed down, he straightened his clothes, disposing of the condom, and stowing the Vaseline away in his jacket pocket. Dodger had also attempted to make himself look presentable, but was now sitting at the bar, looking absolutely exhausted. Tired but satisfied.

"Don't try that little stunt again," Brendan called out as he bustled around the bar, trying to find his wallet to pay for a cab. It was the least he owed Dodger. "Not that I didn't like it. I just think we don't need these complications, you know? I've got my life and you've got girls…" Where was the number for the taxi service? Brendan at last found the slip of paper." Dodger, can you hear me?"

But Dodger had fallen fast asleep.

Brendan muttered darkly and rang the number.

"Hi, I'd like a taxi, please. Uh-huh, to Chez Chez…"


	2. Challenge Accepted- Brendan VS Doug

**Title: And Now For Something Different**

**Chapter Title: Challenge Accepted**

**Brendan/Doug slash fic- if you like toppydom!Brendan and helplessbottom!Doug, then check out the Brendan VS Doug chapter of my multi-pairing fic called I Like It Rough. If you like bottom!Brendan in a Brendan/Doug fic, check out Insane Like The Wolf, my Brouglas one-shot. **

**Bang Bang**

Doug blinked, then closed his eyes and nestled back under the covers with his face sinking into the soft pillow.

**Bang. Bang**

This time the sound cut right through his lazy slumber, it was no longer a part of his dreams or something to be ignored, and as the layers of sleep fell from his brain, he sat up heavily, rubbing his face with his hands, trying to place the sound.

**Bangbangbang**

Knocking. Someone was at the door and it didn't seem like Leanne or Texas were going to answer it, so Doug rolled out of bed and threw a dressing gown over his grey boxer shorts, running barefoot to the door as the knocking became more insistent.

"Hang on!" he called, not knowing if they could hear him through the door. "Just a minute!"

Fumbling with the chain, Doug opened the door wide. Then his mouth fell open as Brendan Brady looked back at him.

Brady wore a dark blue shirt and a charcoal suit, more formal than his usual attire. Doug glanced down at his own state of dress and immediately felt horribly exposed.

"Well," Brendan said. "Aren't you going to let me in?"

Doug childishly tried to slam the door in his face but Brendan stuck his foot over the threshold and the door swung open again.

Brendan stepped smartly through the door and strode right past Doug without sparing him one look, leaving the younger man to close the door, still not quite sure what the hell and happened.

When Doug had entered the living room-slash-kitchen, he found Brendan inspecting the cupboards, opening cabinets and pulling out drawers, taking things off from the shelves with idle curiosity.

"Which do you prefer? Tea or coffee?" Brendan asked in a deceptively conversational tone, slapping two mugs down onto the worktop. Doug stepped closer, staring in bewilderment as Brendan filled the kettle, setting spoons and saucers beside the cups.

"I don't want anything." he said automatically but Brendan didn't seem to hear him.

"I'll make you a coffee, Douglas. It'll put some colour in your face. You got any espresso?"

Doug blinked and shook his head. Hovering awkwardly near Brendan's shoulder. "No, we got Nescafe cappuccino- it's in sachets- and just regular coffee."

"Granules, not beans? Oh, ok, I've found it," Brendan emerged from a cabinet low to the ground, where he'd been crouched, searching for the coffee. He raised the half-full jar up to the light, so he could peer doubtfully at it. "This is cheap stuff," he cocked his head. "Still, on _your_ salary…"

Doug ignored him. "Look, Brendan, you can't just- just waltz in here and start messing my kitchen up-"

"So many things wrong with that sentence…firstly, I don't waltz. I foxtrot .Maybe tango. But waltz is too slow for me, Douglas. Secondly-" Here Brendan paused to add a generous spoonful of coffee into each mug. "It's not just your kitchen, it belongs to the two girls as well, doesn't it? Always thought it was odd, a man living with two young women like that. Surprised it didn't make you…strange." Doug really didn't like the smile on Brendan's lips as he said that, or the gleam in his eyes. What did he mean by strange? Gay? Was this a subtle dig at Doug's relationship with Brendan's ex, Ste, or was he insinuating Doug was pathetic for spending time around females?

"I don't know what you're talking about. And you're putting too much coffee in it. You're making it too strong." Doug finished lamely.

"I always make it like this. If you can't handle strong coffee, Douglas, then you can't handle life."

"Look, listen to me! You _need_ to leave."

Brendan was now pouring hot water into the two cups.

"You wanna know something interesting, Yank? When people say 'Look' or 'Listen to me' in a sentence, it means they're feeling _trapped…_"

Doug stared at the floor, hearing the splash of the water hitting the cup. "Are you saying I'm feeling trapped?"

"I was just telling you an interesting fact. You're the one bringing your feelings into it." Brendan handed Doug a cup. The coffee was black, he noticed. "I don't know, Douglas,_ are_ you feeling trapped?"

Doug didn't answer him but instead took a hasty swig of the unappetising-looking drink. Immediately he coughed, eyes watering, trying bravely not to just spit the burning bitter out, as it scorched his tongue. He swallowed, with difficulty, and rushed over to the dishwasher where he got a clean glass and filled it with water at the sink. Brendan watched on with amusement as Doug washed down the coffee with gulps of water.

"My mistake," Brendan smirked. "Turns out you couldn't handle your coffee."

Doug turned to face him, his cheeks flaming from embarrassment and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "No, Brendan. That wasn't coffee. That was- that was disgusting, nobody could take it like that, it's too bitter-"

Brendan just smiled at that, stepping a little closer with his own mug of steaming coffee in his hand. When he was only inches away from Doug, so close Doug could see Brendan's own murky reflection in the drink, the black beverage rippling gently from his movements, Brendan leant in, whispering "Oh, I think you'll find, I take it, Douglas. I take it like a man," and then, still firmly meeting Doug's eyes, Brendan tipped his head back and took a hearty swallow of the drink. Doug watched Brendan's lips tighten around the rim of the cup as he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing with the struggle. Finally, Brendan lowered the mug and smacked his lips in mock satisfaction, with a droplet of coffee trickling down his jaw. With his thumb he wiped it away, and then gave Doug a look, as if to say _your move?_

Doug tried to put a bit of space between himself and Brendan, but soon enough, he was trapped against the worktop, with the coffee-bearing Irishman far closer than Doug would have preferred.

"Brendan…" he said warningly, raising a hand to stop Brendan from crowding him further but Brendan pressed on regardless, until Doug's palm was batting ineffectually at Brendan's chest. As useful as a single shield against a battalion.

"Douglas…" Brendan said softly, with a sardonic twist of his lips. Doug could see Brendan's lips, so close to his own, but was powerless to stop them from seizing his own.

"Mmm..." Brendan was moaning deeply into the kiss, Doug was sure this was more of a show than actual feeling, as Brendan's lips, sticky and moist from the coffee, grated at his own mouth. With sudden inspiration, he bit Brendan's full lower lip, feeling the man's moustache bristle as Brendan reacted with anger. But hardly reprimanded by this hostile gesture, Brendan returned to kissing him, although now with ferocity, a ravaging eager of sharp teeth and a dominating tongue, thoroughly tasting and _tiring_ Doug's mouth.

It was only after Doug had noticed that Brendan's grip (his hands on his shoulders) had gradually loosened and there was more of a rhythm to his kissing, a sensual display that wasn't present before, Doug realised it was because _he_ had been kissing Brendan back! With horror, he pulled back, and traced trembling fingers over his sore lips. He'd kissed Ste's ex! If Ste ever found out…a sinking feeling swam over him when he realised that Brendan probably wouldn't hesitate in telling Ste of Doug's betrayal- after all, Brendan could hardly make himself look worse, could he? Doug was the one who was supposed to be staying loyal to Ste.

Brendan didn't try to claim back Doug's lips although there may have been a breathless laugh in between Brendan's panting. Doug tried to regain his breath, too aware of how he was heaving in breaths like he's just emerged from a gruelling marathon, but he needed Brendan to know his mind games wouldn't work on him.

"I don't know what you think's happening but you can't just come in here and-and-"

"_Accost_ you? _Debauch_ you? Steal away your _innocence?_" Brendan whispered, his hand trailing down Doug's body, making clothing wrinkle and rustle, until his fingers were walking over the faint stirring of Doug's trousers, where his cock was covered but half-hard, and noticeable, to Brendan's observant eyes.

"I- I know you probably think you're God's gift to men but I'm not- oh God, STOP TOUCHING ME- I'm not interested-"

"Really?" Brendan whispered, dropping to his knees and looking up at Doug with a knowing smirk. "Because Douglas Junior here seems to be very interested…" Doug quickly looked away, the sight of those eyes gazing up at him with a mouth so close that Doug's zipper was swaying with each of Brendan's breaths, was too much. He could feel himself growing hard and he hated it. Why did Brendan have to have so much of influence over every aspect of his life, why did he have so much control over anything, even Doug's own body, his physical reactions?

Brendan chose that moment to claw back Doug's attention, dragging him from the miserable thoughts by leaning forward and pressing his mouth hard against Doug's crotch. He didn't nuzzle or kiss, he just let his lips mash against the corduroy-covered erection, the soft skin of his lips crushed to the hardness tenting Doug's trousers.

Doug stuttered out half-hearted protestations, torn between wanting to get as far away from Brendan as possible, and wanting to thrust his hips, to get friction onto where it was badly needed.

"Do you…want me to _suck _you? Would you like that? Do you wear boxers or briefs, hmm? Want me to tear 'em off with my _teeth?_" Brendan murmured, his hot breath penetrating the fabric of Doug's slacks to tickle his flesh.

"Please," He scarcely knew what he was saying but the words sounded good all the same. "Please, Brendan, just _do_ something."

Brendan smiled, quickly unzipping Doug's flies and pushing his trousers down as far as he could. When he was once again eyeing Doug's crotch, Brendan smiled again, a toothy grin, and those sharp teeth parted as eagerly as the trouser zip, because at the next moment, Brendan was doing as he'd promised.

Pulling Doug's boxer shorts down with his teeth.

Doug winced when the jagged edge of an incisor scratched his skin, but Brendan muttered with a mouthful of material wadded in his mouth. At some point between Brendan dragging the underwear down, his stubble grazing Doug's thighs as he did so, Brendan's tongue darted out to flick playfully at the skin, making Doug jump. Brendan laughed at this but then his mouth opened wide and he caught hold of Doug's cock between his lips.

The instant feel of slick, wet flesh moulded so perfectly around his cock made Doug moan out in pure need, the sounds of his desire uncensored as he welcomed this new feeling. He thrust forward, wanting Brendan to take more of him in his mouth but Brendan pulled away, his lips sliding off Doug's cock. Brendan looked up at Doug with a smirk.

"Oops, got a bit excited there, did ye? If we do this, Dougie-boy, we do it _Brendan's_ way."

"Brendan, please," What Doug hated most of all how desperate he sounded at that moment. No, that wasn't what he hated most, what he loathed was the crooked grin Brendan gave when he heard Doug's pleading.

"Want me to suck you, little boy? I'm good at it, blown a few men in my time. Unlike this pathetic kid I'm looking at. What are ye, hmm? Begging for a man who hates ye to make ye feel good? What's wrong, my Steven not good enough for ye?"

"I- I don't know why you're doing this…" It was getting hard to think, to listen. Brendan gave Doug's cock a considering once-over with his eyes, then a quick lick up the shaft. Doug's knees buckled and if Brendan hadn't raised his arms to clap his hands onto Doug's thighs, Doug would have fallen to the floor.

"It'll come to you." Brendan whispered, his eyes fixed on Doug's cock, and then he leaned in and took it back in his mouth.

Doug released a sigh he didn't know he'd been holding, squinting through eyes that were heavy-lidded with arousal, down at Brendan's face. Now, Brendan was sucking Doug earnestly, making loud, wet noises with each suck and pull, his eyes tightly closed. Doug tried to cup Brendan's head to encourage him, but when he did, Brendan grabbed his hands and dug his nails in, so Doug hastily let his hands fall uselessly to his side.

He was so close, he was so- Doug groaned, mentally urging Brendan on _harder, faster, more tongue, please…_

But Brendan spat him out again. By now, Doug was getting frustrated, just when things were getting good, Brendan would stop.

"What the hell, Brendan?"

"Flustered, Dougie? I knew it. Feckin' knew it. Ye can't handle it, can ye?"

"I don't- what- WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY?"

"Don't say a THING, Douglas. Not a word. 'Cause I'll make you come, but not because I want you like _you_ want this. I'll do it because from now, when you're with Steven-" Brendan hissed, ducking his head to rake his teeth down Doug's thigh. "When you're with him, you'll remember this. You'll never fecking forget it." With that, he sucked hard on Doug's cock, swallowing around it, letting out grunts of satisfaction until the added vibration of his low tones, along with the tongue and lips all working in tandem, brought Doug to orgasm, the younger man crying out brokenly as he came.

Doug's hands flailed, needing to hold onto something as his knees buckled, Brendan's lips still tightly sealed around his cock, sucking relentlessly. When Brendan had milked him dry, the Irishman rose, brushing dust off his suit.

"What do ye say, hmm? Have I turned ye off men?" Brendan grinned, running a finger thoughtfully over his lower lip. Doug found himself entranced by the gesture until Brendan frowned at him and he realised he had been asked a question.

"You won't stop me, you know. I love Ste. You can do anything you like, you won't tear us apart."

"Challenge accepted," Brendan sneered, already making his way out of the door. "Challenge very much…accepted."


	3. Follower- Kevin VS Walker

**Ok, so I know Walker and Kevin are straight but I thought I'd twist that a bit to write a slashy piece. Enjoy. **

Kevin picked his way over crumpled fast food wrappers and around scummy puddles from last week's rain. If he squinted against the harsh sunlight, one hand raised to his brow, shielding his eyes, he could make out a tall lean figure, in front of the wall he was heading towards. It was difficult to see the man, the eye was drawn automatically to the bold, dirty streaks of Day-Glo graffiti covering the wall, but Kevin had spent enough time working with this man, he felt sure he could recognise him anywhere, on no more than his posture and gait.

"Walker!" he called out. He'd first been confused when he'd been going to Walker before and caught him playing darts. It had seemed almost like dancing, from afar. He'd see him like this, throwing darts, or hunched over messy stacks of photographs- photographs Kevin had taken himself, under Walker's orders of course. Walker didn't like to be interrupted. He remembered seeing him first playing darts (no opponent and he'd never challenged Kevin to a game) but his precision and concentration was remarkable. Even with the bulky jacket on, Walker had been oddly graceful, his spine arching like a cat's as his arm drew back, a dart sailing through the air. Bull's eye. Kevin had jokingly once asked why Walker didn't tape a picture of Brendan Brady to the target, but the look Walker had given him had made him feel stupid. Kevin hated that- feeling stupid. Like he was still a kid. Walker didn't do that much really, he respected Kevin, or he gave that impression.

But that didn't matter now.

His walk became a jog, eager to get back into the shadows with Walker and away from where someone may spot him. He stopped to a halt, looking at Walker in confusion.

Walker wasn't playing darts, nor was he studying the photographs. He was sitting on the floor, cross-legged, with his eyes closed. If he hadn't been sitting perfectly upright, Kevin would have assumed he was asleep. Hearing Kevin's footsteps, Walker's eyes snapped open and he looked up.

"There you are. You've been ages."

"Yeah, well, Brady had me working 'til late, cleaning glasses-"

"Doesn't Brendan have a dishwasher?"

"Apparently not- I was the dishwasher! Anyway, don't get mad about that- remember, I'm only working there on your orders-"

Walker suddenly sprang up, and Kevin took a hasty step back. He realised he'd been chased into a corner when his back hit the wall and Walker slapped his hands down on the wall on either side of Kevin's body, trapping him.

"You _idiot_." Walker hissed, glaring down at Kevin. Kevin flailed, craning his neck to try and meet Walker's eyes.

"What? What did I do? I'm doing everything you asked!"

"You shouted out my name! People could have heard you! Brendan, one of the villagers- even a cop! Why would you do something like that?"  
Kevin raised his hands defensively but got a handful of Walker's thick, grey jacket. "I'm sorry, I forgot-"

"Kevin, listen to me: I don't have the _luxury _of forgetting. I'm a wanted man, remember? Not your pal. I'm not able to pop down the shops. You have to be _discreet._"

The younger man nodded helplessly, and after a few tense seconds, Walker released him. Kevin gasped, but it wasn't as bad as when Walker had got him in a strangle-hold against that wall.

Walker had turned his back on him now, breathing heavily as though the stresses of having to deal with Kevin were taking their toll on his body.

"I'm sorry, mate. Really, I am. But it's ok- we're gonna get Brady and it's gonna be ok."

Walker smiled, a sad smile and shook his head. "It'll never be ok, Kevin, but I'm working on that. I'll get Brendan, make him pay. He'll stand and watch as everyone he loves falls down around him," Walker smiled again and this time there was more warmth in it. "Dropping like flies, that's the expression. Ha, they'll drop like flies."

Kevin laughed uncomfortably, checking the time on his mobile phone in an attempt to seem casual. "And he really deserves it…" it wasn't quite a question or a statement but Walker seemed to get what Kevin meant. He came close, one hand hovering awkwardly near Kevin's ear before landing down on his shoulder.

"Yes, Kevin. He does. There are certain people in this world…" Walker gestured with his free hand as he spoke, his eyes tracing the colourful swirls of the many graffiti fonts. To Kevin's young, naïve mind, this bedraggled, whiskered man looked impossibly wise and confident at that moment, a scholar, a philosopher. "There are people and they deserve the very worst treatment. You know? They've committed…atrocities and they never learn. Karma doesn't step in, God doesn't intervene- they live, Kevin. That's what they do."

"They…live?"

"Yes. They live- they buy a house and get a life partner, they kiss, cuddle, kill. They eat nice food and watch football matches. And people like you and me-"

Kevin hid his grin. He liked that "You and me". It meant Walker saw him as an equal, as something more than disposable.

"People like us, Walker?"

"People like us suffer. Having to steal and lie, doing the worst things for the best reasons. So I'll hurt Brendan. I'll hurt him so bad he'll swear his soul is being ripped out and you know what?" Walker stared intently into Kevin's eyes. "I'll sleep easy that night."

They were stirring words but Kevin still felt some doubt. "Walker…" he said hesitantly. "You know that doing this…won't…undo what Brendan's done?"

Suddenly it seemed very cold. Walker looked down at Kevin and there was the look in his eyes made Kevin shiver. "I know. I know that. Cameron is dead and revenge won't bring him back. But that's- that's ok. Because I lost _everything_ when Cam died but that means I have _nothing to lose_. This isn't just about _my_ revenge anymore- this is about restoring balance to the universe. Brendan's been growing complacent, becoming confident in every crime and we're going to sort that out. This isn't just for me, this is for every person who has paid for Brendan's crimes."

Kevin stared up at Walker, lost in the words. He felt giddy, drunk on power, and drawn in by _Walker's_ power. He knew this was reckless and illegal but at that moment he could almost physically feel his loyalty, an allegiance to Walker, like many thin strings tying them together, sewn into their clothes.

He was barely aware of his own body moving, but he must have made some effort to get close because then his hands were grabbing the rough material of Walker's coat, pulling him closer. Walker stumbled and frowned, but Kevin didn't care- feeling bold, he laced his fingers into the long, tangled curtains of Walker's hair, forcing the older man to bow his head, bringing their faces closer.

The hair was thick under his fingers, not soft like the girls Kevin had been with, unkempt and wild, like Walker himself. Walker had shown Kevin a photo of him and Cam from years ago and the difference between the Simon Walker from then and now was startling. His eyes had looked brighter, his face was smooth and clean-shaven, and his hair was shiny and clean, hanging boyishly in his eyes. The contrast was obvious- the photo showed a boy while Kevin was looking at a man.

He tugged on Walker's hair again, angling his face so lips could kiss. Feeling the rough, prickly beard against his face Kevin moaned, sliding his lips over Walker's, trying to show his boss just how good he could be. He could feel Walker's erection through his jeans and he was thrilled that this was affecting Walker too. Soon enough, he was rutting against Walker as the older man rubbed his hands down Kevin's back, neither saying a word even when they broke the kiss to come up for air.

Kevin's neck was beginning to ache from craning up to meet Walker's kisses, and his face stung from Walker's coarse facial hair but he didn't care. He wanted more, had to have more. A fantasy popped into his head of getting Walker naked on the ground, both of them kissing on the concrete amongst the rubbish, with the graffiti behind them, and he gasped at how much he wanted that. He tried to undo Walker's flies with one hand, but it was difficult without looking. Finally, he managed to pull the little zip down, but he'd barely got his hand in the shadowy passage of Walker's trousers, to curl his hand around Walker's cock, before Walker shoved him and Kevin went flying.

He was just able to throw out his arms, falling heavily against the wall and he stared up at Walker, confused and hurt.

"We shouldn't have," Walker said and it meant everything. "We won't again."

"Walker?" Kevin was panting, feeling shame creep up his face and neck in an embarrassing blush. He wished his hard-on wasn't so obvious through his thin jeans, or that he could look as composed as Walker did right now.

"You know what I thought when I first met you?"

Kevin wanted to shout at Walker's words I don't care! You rejected me! But he shook his head silently.

"I thought 'He's like a kicked puppy. He mistrusts people because he was treated badly once. But if you go about this the right way, he'll prove himself to worth the effort.'"

"You thought I was like a puppy? That I'll just roll over for you, do tricks? That's not on, Walker. I'm not some daft little thing to be your puppet. You don't care about me."

"No…."

"No?!"

"Not at first."

Kevin stared.

"You've been doing everything I've asked of you, Kevin, even though it sometimes bores you or is hard. I know that and I appreciate that. But sometimes…sometimes, Kevin, you remind me of Cam. Certain things you say, certain things you do."

"I'm not Cam." Was all he could say.

"I know you're not. But you're the only person here right now, aren't you? No one's left…Cam, my dad, Shawnee…"

"What are you saying to me?" Kevin was afraid of the answer but he had to know.

"I'll do this, Kevin. I'll find Brendan. We'll either kill each other or die trying. That's a joke, but you don't feel like laughing, do you? But at the end of it, none of this will matter to you. You'll be able to do what you want. Be with who you want."

Kevin pushed away from the wall and put a hand on Walker's arm. "I want this. _You._"

"You don't, not really I'm not your father, or your friend or your _boy_friend, Kevin. Freud would have a field day with you. But you don't need me and you don't want me. I'm…complicated. "

"I like complicated. Complicated's good."

"I've been around long enough to know that it really isn't. And even if we did- I mean, you and me- us…I've got too much to do, I can't…"

"Spread yourself too thin." Kevin supplied with a small smile.

"Exactly. You're alright, Kevin. So, from now on, we stick to the plan, understand?"

"Yes." Kevin sighed.

Walker grinned. "Excellent. Brendan Brady won't know what hit him."


	4. Happy Hour- Brendan VS Kevin

**Chapter Title: Happy Hour**

Kevin glanced up from his task, realising he's been wiping the same glass for a good five minutes. He couldn't help being nervous but he hoped it wasn't showing. Walker's plan had failed and Kevin had failed. He'd done exactly as Walker had instructed, planting the drugs somewhere they could be easily found, provided the person knew to look for them. Seeing the flashing lights of the black Mariahs amassed outside Chez Chez, he'd felt only panic when it had been clear that Brendan hadn't been led away in handcuffs. He must have found some way out of it. Kevin had gone back to the bathroom but the toilet tissue holder where he'd planted the drugs was on the floor, it looked like it had been ripped from the wall. He had no idea how Brendan had discovered it but all he knew was this: Brendan was surely going to "come after" him, just as Walker had predicted.

A shadow suddenly fell across Kevin and he gulped, looking up into Brendan's inscrutable gaze.

"Hi," Kevin said lamely, not expecting Brendan to return the greeting.

"There's been a drugs bust. The place was crawling with coppers last night," Brendan leant across the bar, letting his crossed forearms take his weight. The movement made his tight blue shirt strain against his chest. "But you wouldn't know anything about that- would you?"

Kevin shook his head.

"You went home last night? Ate your dinner, watched university challenge, said your prayers? Slept soundly while the sirens went and my club was torn apart?"

Kevin nodded.

"You know what I said when we first met? About that guy who stole from me…?"

"Yeah?"

Brendan straightened up, and turned his head so he was cheek-to-cheek with Kevin. "That applies to guys that frame me, too." He whispered this in Kevin's ear.

Kevin drew back, his fears confirmed- Brendan knew it was him. He hurriedly shook his head. "Look- Brendan- I know it looks bad-"

"You'd better start talking before I smash a bottle over your head." Brendan snapped. There were a number of bottles behind Kevin to choose from, so he immediately started talking, rattling off the first excuse to pop into his head.

"They _are _my drugs and I _did_ put them here but not to_ frame_ you, Brendan, I'd never do that! I was- I've been working with this guy called Wal- Wallis and he told me that the police were onto me so I should hide the drugs somewhere. He- he said for me to hide them _here_ for a few hours and when the coast was clear, to come and get them. _He _must have been the one to call the police, to frame _me!_ The drugs have my fingerprints on, there's nothing to tie it to _you-_"

Without warning, Brendan grabbed a handful of Kevin's t-shirt, yanking on it so Kevin was pulled forward, his nose bumping Brendan's cheek. "Don't be naïve, Kevin, drugs found on _my_ property will affect _me._ You're an idiot. Now- what are we going to do about Wallis?"

The blood drained from Kevin's face. "W-what?"

"He framed you and caused trouble for me. You're a small-time criminal, kid, you don't know anything, you can't deal with him. Give me his number- let me…talk to him."

"I can't- I mean- I don't have his number!_ He_ contacts _me! _Look, let's forget about this, ok, I made a mistake and I'm sorry,"

"Alright. I won't clean up your messes. But if you cause more trouble for me or my business, I will make you wish you could just climb back into mammy's womb, ok?"

Kevin cleared his throat, not daring to speak. He knew his voice would betray him, would show how scared he was. He nodded again and winced when Brendan clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Good boy. But…there is still the matter of your punishment."

"My- my what?"

"You lied, you took liberties that weren't yours to take- need I go on? I expect, above everything else, obedience in my employees because how else can I trust them? And you don't seem like you even want to _be_ here."

Now that Kevin knew he was off the hook, he was desperate to regain Brady's trust. "I'm sorry, I said I was sorry- I_ do_ want to be here!" He could feel his own heart hammering in his chest, looking into Brendan's dark eyes and the fingers of his right hand unconsciously circled the wrist of his left, feeling his panicked pulse flutter with fear.

It was a face-off, Brendan and Kevin, their gazes locked. Kevin didn't dare blink even when he felt his eyes water, not wanting Brendan to read the fear but also the relief at not being found out. A few more tense seconds passed until Brendan's jaw unclenched and he said "Ok," with a nod, turning to go into his office. Kevin collapsed against the bar in relief but then saw Brendan jerk his head to the office door before slipping inside. He wanted Kevin to follow him.

When Kevin entered the room, Brendan had his back to him. Nevertheless, Brendan heard him and responded. "Nice to see you joined me. Kevin, when you said you're sorry- did you mean it?"

It was far easier to speak to Brendan's back. "Yeah. Yes."

"And you'll truly do anything to make it up to me?"

"Of course."

Brendan turned around and in his hands was his belt. His flies were undone. "That's the right answer."

"Brendan- what-"

"Bend over the desk, Kevin, there's a good boy."

"You can't be serious!"

Brendan quickly strode forward, a sudden anger in his eyes. "I AM _DEADLY_ SERIOUS!"

There was something about the way that Brady said deadly that had Kevin hurrying to obey, bending over the desk and glancing anxiously over his shoulder at the older man.

He gasped when he felt Brendan's hands settle on his hips, but they weren't there for long, Brendan's fingers nimbly unzipped Kevin's jeans and dragged them down his thighs. His face was burning from embarrassment but mercifully, Brendan let him keep his pants on. Even with his underpants on, he still had bare flesh on display, and he felt the unmistakeable touch of cool leather trailing down his thighs, Brendan's belt.

"You'll want to find something to hold onto." Brendan's voice sounded amused. Kevin faltered, grabbing a table leg in each hand.

"Boss-"

All he could hear was the sound of the air whooshing as the strap cut through it and then_ Thwack! _The leather hit his skin. First there was coolness, of the air and the leather but then

"Uh!"

a warmth, a hotness, burning, spreading across his skin, he was just glad he had his underwear on-

"Stop making such a fuss."

"I don't like this," Kevin groaned, holding the table legs in a death grip. He heard Brendan snort with laughter and then thwack! Brendan hit him a second time.

Brendan can't have belted him for that long but it felt like forever to Kevin. All he was aware of was each hit, Brendan wasn't using the buckle end thankfully and he wasn't going as hard as he could, but it was still enough to make the Irishman pant from exertion and enough to make Kevin groan or cry out.

It was like sex, he thought, each whip crack of the belt driving Kevin forward on the desk, his panting, and Brendan's low grunts. The worst thing was when Brendan dropped the belt, or rather it flew from his hand and hit the wall in front of Kevin. Kevin automatically bent further over the desk to stretch and retrieve the item, and Brendan leant over his back to get it. Something hard was pressing against his arse and he squirmed, recoiling from what he was sure was Brendan's erection.

"Don't move," Brendan grunted, pulling the belt up. It slithered up Kevin's back with a dry whisper and he shivered.

"I'm sorry, Brendan," Kevin gasped, as Brendan leant back, giving Kevin his own space. "I- I really am, I'm so- I'm so sorry,"

"Alright then." Brendan said.

Kevin yanked his trousers up, his face on fire. "Are we good, boss?"

"Yeah. But don't do it again."

Kevin took the chance he was offered and quickly left. Walker wouldn't be pleased.


	5. What A Shalker- Walker VS Shawnee

**Chapter title: What A Shalker**

**Oh gosh. It felt weird writing het. I think that's a sign I've been writing too much slash. Ok then.**

"Walker!"

Walker shot up off the dirty mattress he was lying on. He recognised that voice. How had she found him here? His eyes were darting nervously around but it quickly became apparent that there was nowhere to hide.

He saw a dart of movement from his peripheral vision and then there she was.

"Walker…"

"Shawnee."

"It's good to see you, Walker. You're looking well." Shawnee hadn't changed a bit, her auburn ponytail and dark suit the same as usual. Walker stared at her, looked away and then stared some more. It felt good, good to see this familiar person, his eyes couldn't stop roaming across this unremarkable woman's face, like his mind was starving, he needed feeding. He knew he'd have to kill her. Shawnee must have known what he'd done- murder. But he couldn't get caught; he had too much to do.

"You're a liar." Walker said with a crooked grin, running a hand through his hair. He didn't look good right now, wearing scuffed trainers and clothes he'd been sleeping in. the last time he'd seen Shawnee, he'd been clean-shaved. He'd cried in her car, then thrown her out of it. He hadn't been able to bring himself to genuinely hurt her. He wondered if he could do it now.

"You're a bigger liar," Shawnee murmured and Walker swallowed, his jaw clenching. With anger, with shame, he didn't know. That's why he'd joined the force, to catch the evil filth who had sold Cam the drugs, being a police officer was simply a means to an end. But working with Shawnee, the straight-talking, brusque woman, he'd never entirely forgotten his real agenda but the pain of Cam's condition had become easier to bear.

Walker coughed into his hand, feeling the rough beard graze his palm. Did Shawnee have back-up? She had to, no one would come here alone.

"May I ask how you found me?"

Shawnee looked at him. "Would that be advisable?" was all she said.

"I don't know- you're answering questions with more questions, it's confusing."

There was a moment, less than two seconds, where Shawnee looked like she might laugh, her lip twitched and her eyebrows raised. But then the merriment faded in her eyes before it had a chance to bloom. Walker sighed.

"I know you're not working alone, Walker. You're working with Kevin Foster. He's young, he doesn't know what he's doing, do you really think you're doing the right thing?"

"In the long-term, yes. You don't understand, you don't understand about Brendan-"

"Then help us- help us put Brendan behind bars- where he belongs!" Shawnee seized Walker's wrists impulsively, as if that one gesture was all it took to keep him grounded, to derail him from this path to destruction.

"If you're planning to arrest me, make an example of me…"

Shawnee shook her head sadly. "Cam wouldn't want this-"

Walker stared. "You know- you know about my brother?"

"I found out. I know you want justice but you can get it legally-"

"I can't!" Walker jerked a hand from her grip, he just wanted her to shut up, he knew what she was saying was right, but Shawnee didn't even flinch at the hand, she stared him down. Walker's hand fell to limply lie on her shoulder, then he tentatively brushed a few stray stands of auburn hair from her face.

His eyes felt like they were burning, wet tears oozed from his eyes and ran down his nose. "Shawnee, Cam- he- it never gets easier, you know? You…live with that pain but it's always there in here." He thumped his own chest, feeling the jolting kick, his own heart beating back in response.

Shawnee softened, just a little, and she awkwardly patted him on the back. Walker fell against her, wrapping his arms tightly around her, not even believing he could give in to this uselessness. He felt better, welcomed into that warmth, that reluctant softness and he burrowed his head in the space between her jaw and neck, huffing into the heat. "Shawnee." he croaked, his lips brushing her skin. "I don't know, I don't…Shawnee…"

Shawnee sighed and Walker looked at her, his tear-stained face creased with emotion. He wasn't even thinking, all he knew was he needed something; he needed to switch his brain off, stop thinking. He turned his head so his lips could find hers and then he pouted, needing to kiss, needing to put more into the effort. Needing her to respond. Shawnee muttered something against his lips but he pressed harder, reaching up to cradle her head in his palm, soft reddish-brown hair falling through his fingers.

She hesitantly kissed him back and Walker gave a relived sob that was swallowed by her mouth, this was what he wanted, Shawnee was hard in nature and soft in body and he had to have her. He fumbled without looking to pull her hairband off the severe ponytail and he broke the kiss to see her hair cascade down her shoulders. She wasn't beautiful or charming, but she was here and she cared (although she pretended not to) so Walker couldn't t care less.

He stumbled back, dragging her by her lapels and collapsed down onto the mattress, bringing the woman with him. Shawnee fell into his lap and suddenly her fingers were tearing at his coat, roughly forcing the zip down, trying to part the thick sides of the jacket to reach what was underneath. Walker let his lips fall from hers to help her with this endeavour, within moments his heavy coat was discarded and she was running her hands under his t-shirt.

"If the boys down at the precinct knew I was doing this…" Shawnee muttered, fiddling with the buttons of her own jacket. She was straddling Walker and the heat and pressure against his covered crotch was making him hard. Shawnee grunted, struggling with her jacket and Walker helped her, throwing the black fabric to the floor. He made himself busy, unbuttoning Shawnee's blouse efficiently, not daring to think about what came next or how they'd deal with it. When all that separated him from Shawnee's bare chest was her no-nonsense white bra, he cupped her breasts, bringing his face in close to nuzzle the warm skin in between the two mounds, breathing her in.

"Fuck," he hissed, feeling her hands press between her knees to where his erection was pushing at his jeans. "Shawnee."

"Yeah," she muttered, tugging Walker's zipper and slipping her hand inside his jeans. "I know."

He gasped when he felt her hand curl around his cock- the same hand that had slapped him in the face and pulled him into a half-Nelson in the past.

"Shaw-Shawnee, I wanna see you," he stuttered, throwing his head back as she pulled at his shaft. Shawnee rose onto her knees, her hand leaving Walker's cock and she unzipped her trousers, pushing them down slim, toned legs. Walker helped her, dropping a kiss on her shoulder when she leant against him as she kicked her trousers off. Seeing her black pants, Walker had snorted, commenting on how they didn't match her bra. Shawnee's reply had been "Who am I? A Victoria's Secret model?" Walker didn't even attempt to undo her bra, he figured he'd leave that to the expert. He wasn't prepared for the rush of arousal that spread through him when she finally unclasped her bra, her breasts free from the restraining material. She was naked. She was vulnerable. For him.

Walker pulled off his t-shirt, growling in frustration as his view of Shawnee was obscured for a few seconds. She grabbed Walker's shoulders for balance, and Walker kissed her again, then let his fingers trail down her body to reach her crotch. Shawnee inhaled sharply but other than that, gave no other sign of her anticipation. Walker made sure to keep eye contact as his index and middle fingers lightly stroked the folds of her flesh, slipping a finger inside. She was wet for him.

Shawnee gritted her teeth, pushing back on Walker's finger until it was swallowed by the wet heat to the knuckle. He flexed his finger, feeling the thick, spongy walls contract around his digit and he quickly let his other finger join its brother.

He straightened his fingers, stroking at her walls as if scratching an itch, letting Shawnee ride him as she saw fit. She was perfect like this, her hair falling into her face and flying around her shoulders, her make-up free face pink from the heavy, panting breaths as she brought herself up and sank down onto Walker's fingers.

Walker couldn't wait any longer, his crotch felt heated from arousal. He took his finger back, pushing her down onto the mattress, still able to smell her on his fingers. He gave no warning when he pushed into her.

Shawnee exhaled, just a puff of warm air, not really a gasp, as Walker's cock slid into her. She tensed, her green eyes fixed on the ceiling above their heads, but she made it quite clear that she wanted this to, by wrapping her legs around Walker's waist. Staring down at her slack, kiss-reddened mouth, Walker was reminded, sickeningly, of when Brendan had fucked him into the carpet, had made tears squeeze themselves out of his eyes. He'd told Shawnee, that very night that he'd "tried something". He wondered what she assumed he'd done. She'd never had the chance to ask.

Shawnee still was controlling him, even now with him invading her most vulnerable part, her sharp, short nails scratched down his back and her long legs were hitched over his hip bones, she controlled the pace.

Walker kissed her, awkwardly, on her hair, but she didn't seem to want it. She muttered "Get on with it" with the same voice that she used for calling six-foot-six male police officers into line during a bust, this little red-head woman calling the shots. Walker kissed her lips this time, to shut her up, thrusting roughly into her, as hard as he could, as fast as he could. This was different to Brendan, it wasn't painful. This was different to his encounters with other women, women who weren't Shawnee. He hadn't liked them.

He grabbed her breasts, then her hips, his hands not knowing where to put themselves as he furiously fucked her, hard into that scratchy mattress. He felt his balls tightening, didn't have time to warn her as-

"Fuck!" Walker shot his load inside her, making the mattress squeak with the force of the thrusts. Shawnee forced her hand between their sweaty bodies, touching herself and then she cried out, nothing distinct, just a strangled sound of stolen pleasure. Walker couldn't quite meet her eye afterwards.

He thought he'd let her sleep as he pulled on his clothes in swift, methodical movements. He had to leave. But when he looked down at her, pale and grumpy even in sleep, he couldn't leave her by her own. Not here.

Shawnee didn't rest for long, when her eyes opened, Walker had thrown his few belongings into a dirty backpack. The old him, the "Is that any way to treat your best undercover" him would have said "it's a fair cop" or something equally ridiculous.

"You're packed," Shawnee said, her voice dead and empty, looking at Walker with a blank face.

"Of course."

"Go," Shawnee muttered, hastily dressing, not looking at him. "We'll catch you eventually, but until that time, you're welcome to run. If anyone asks, I didn't see anything."

"Thanks."

Shawnee was a remarkably quick dresser. When she'd straightened her jacket, not one to stand on ceremony, she started for the door.

Walker went to her, not able to let her leave just yet. Maybe he needed to have the last word, maybe he needed to have her give him that "Don't bullshit me" face one more time. He didn't know.

When Shawnee was facing him, he leant down and gently kissed her. That briefest meeting of lips was the only parts of them that touched.

"You'll catch me?" Walker asked her, smiling sadly.

"Count on it." Shawnee blandly replied, before turning and striding past him. He didn't run until the click of her boots had completely died away.


End file.
